The First Goal

Perfectly imperfect

I had two options tonight, standing in front of the mirror with a choice between understated or bold. In the end, I couldn't resist the baby blue dress. It flowed just right, the soft, silky fabric brushing against my skin and making me feel more feminine than I had in ages. 

There was something about the way it hugged my waist and floated around me with every step that filled me with a new confidence. 

I decided to add heels for the finishing touch—Baris had mentioned the restaurant was a bit upscale, and I wanted to look the part.

After curling my hair in loose waves and putting on just the right amount of makeup to enhance my features, I took a final look in the mirror. A small smile tugged at my lips. I actually felt beautiful tonight, in a way that felt less about the dress and more about me. 

With a quick breath, I went into the living room to gather my things, slipping my phone into the charger. As I turned to knock on Baris' door, it opened, and there he was, stepping out with that effortless, slightly disheveled charm he wore so well.

He was dressed in a dark, tailored suit, a crisp white shirt underneath, unbuttoned just enough to be intriguing. The fabric fit him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and lean build. 

His hair was smooth, but a few strands fell just out of place, adding a boyishness to his otherwise refined look. 

He looked every bit like he belonged in some magazine spread, the kind of polished yet relaxed look that felt almost unfair.

The moment he saw me, his gaze softened, then lingered, traveling over me as if he was taking in every detail. His smile widened slowly, warmth filling his eyes as they met mine.

"You look... incredible, Amel," he murmured, his voice low but sincere. "That dress—it's perfect for you." He paused, and I caught a hint of admiration that made my pulse quicken. "It's like it was made for you."

A soft warmth bloomed in my chest, butterflies fluttering as I looked down, feeling the smile tug at my lips. It was impossible to ignore how his words seemed to wrap around me, making my cheeks flush. 

"Thank you, Baris. You look... well, you look handsome" I replied, my voice softer than I intended.

His hand rested briefly on the small of my back, guiding me toward the door. "Shall we?" he asked, his tone playful but his eyes still holding that intensity. The gentle pressure of his hand felt grounding, yet it sent a thrill up my spine.

As we walked to the car, I caught him glancing at me a few more times, as though he couldn't quite believe his own eyes. 

And each time, I felt that same rush, that flutter of something I couldn't ignore. There was a part of me that couldn't quite believe it either—but tonight, I wanted to let myself enjoy every second of it.

He held the door open as I slipped into the car, the faintest hint of his cologne lingering in the air—spicy, warm, with a trace of something woodsy that felt rugged and familiar. It was subtle yet intense, and with every breath, I found myself drawn in deeper. 

When he slid into the driver's seat, he moved with that same ease that made everything he did seem impossibly captivating, his hand on the wheel, his gaze steady. I hadn't realized how attractive watching someone drive could be until tonight.

The drive took us to Florya, a neighborhood nestled along the coastline with stunning views and, tonight, a sparkling skyline to match. 

He parked, then turned to me with a warm, playful smile and reached over, brushing a strand of hair from my shoulder. "You ready, Sunshine?" he asked softly, his voice low and inviting. His touch was casual, but I felt it linger, and for a second, I almost forgot we were supposed to be filming any of this.